Demons in My Head 1: Spotless
by Mad Cow
Summary: Under all this stress someone has to break. And it's the one you'd least expect... *part 3 has been uploaded!*
1. Part 1: Still Crazy

Spotless 

Prologue   
Hank stumbled into his house. It had been a long day of school, followed by a long at football practice, followed by a long call.   
And on that call he had let someone die.   
It was all his fault. All his. He shouldn't have let them die. He should have tried harder. Harder. Harder. Harder.   
And Hank was scared.   
Not just scared because he would see that poor little girl's face every night when he went to sleep, but because he could feel his illness coming back.   
It couldn't come back. It couldn't, it couldn't!   
Hank wouldn't let it.   
He wouldn't.   
He was stronger now then he was before, and he wouldn't let it come back.   
Hank lay on his bed, and looked around.   
It was messy. Too messy. He could see things, piled on the floor, piles and piles until they were so big they would suffocate him!   
His shirts were in a pile so big it crushed him, and he couldn't see around them.   
No! No! He wouldn't clean, he would do what the therapist had told him! Resist...resist...resist.   
But the spaces around him became tighter, and finally he gave in.   
Hank cleaned his room. 

Chapter 1   
Hank was acting weird today, Tyler observed. They were in the station, and it looked like he was sitting on his hands.   
"What is up with you today, man?" Tyler asked.   
Hank's eyes darted around. "No...no..thing. It's nothing."   
Jamie drank the last of his Dr. Pepper and shot the can at the trash can. He missed. "Don't say it's nothing. You look like you took an entire bottle of no doze," He joked.   
But Hank didn't look like he was paying attention to them. He was too busy looking at the Dr. Pepper can. He stayed like that for about a minute, and then rushed over to put it in the trash.   
But he didn't stop there. He began to clean the station. Every last inch.   
"Hey, don't worry about cleaning," Tyler called. "We can make Jamie do it!"   
"Very funny," Jamie replied.   
But Hank kept cleaning.   
And cleaning.   
Hank was putting the cups away when he noticed something.   
There were 8 white cups, but 9 blue cups. They weren't equal! They had to be equal! Hank counted again. And still, it was 8 white cups, and 9 blue cups. Hank could feel the white cups, calling to him. They were sad, because one of their own had been dropped and shattered. Now the blue overpowered them.   
There was only one thing he could do.   
Hank grabbed a blue cup, and threw it at the ground, as hard as he could.   
Now it was better.   
Or was it??   
The white cups were upset because they hadn't had one shattered today.   
So Hank grabbed a white cup and shattered it.   
But then there were more blue cups than white!   
So Hank shattered a blue.   
Then he shattered a white.   
He was on his 7th cup when Tyler came skidding into the room.   
"Hank!" He yelled. "What are you doing?"   
But Hank kept shattering glasses.   
When Hank was on his 13th cup (which wasn't even, by the way) the alarm went off. They had a call.   
Hank had to go! But he couldn't leave the cups!   
So Hank pulled all the cups out of the cabinet before running for the ambulance. 

Chapter 2   
In the ambulance, there was no talk of what Hank had done.   
When they got to the call, it was a lady with a broken leg. She had tripped.   
Tripped over a pile of newspapers! No wonder, they had suffocated her.   
Hank stopped strapping her to the board, and began cleaning the house.   
"What are you doing?" Val asked.   
But Hank couldn't stop, no matter how hard he tried.   
By the time they were ready to load her, and leave, Hank still hadn't finished. There were piles of mess, calling out to him.   
Hank! Hank! Clean us!   
And only he could hear them. Only he could help them.   
Finally, Jamie and Tyler had to grab Hank by the arms, and pull him back to the ambulance.   
But he kept reaching to the piles of things, struggling.   
***   
An hour later, Alex called Hank into his office while Hank was cleaning the mess he had made with the glass earlier.   
Hank knew what it would be about.   
"Tyler told me about what you did on the call. He's worried about you. He thinks you need help," Alex began.   
"I have gotten help," Hank mumbled.   
"When you joined the program three years ago, I knew about your disorder. And I knew, that though it was gone for awhile, there was a chance it would come back. Personally, I think it may have been brought out of remission from the stress of the squad. Which is why I am asking you to leave," Alex said.   
"I can control it!" Hank yelled.   
"You didn't at the last call. And you didn't when you broke every glass we have. I don't want to do this, Hank, you're the best EMT I've got. But having someone with Obessive-Compulsive Disorder on my squad is a danger. What if the call today had been life threatening? We'll be lucky if Ms. Frederick doesn't press charges. Now, I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. You are no longer a member of this squad."   
Hank spun around and left Alex's office, hot tears he swore he would never shed again creeping down his cheeks. He didn't stop when Tyler tried to talk to him, when Brooke asked him what was the matter.   
He went home.   
And he did the only thing he could.   
He cleaned house. 


	2. Part 2: Tired of Running

Chapter 3   
Hank heard a knock on the door. It was Jamie, holding out a Swiffer sweeper.   
Hank slammed the door. Jamie knocked again. Hank opened it. Jamie had laid the sweeper down. It was messy. Hank picked it up. "What do you want?" Hank growled.   
Jamie held out his hands. "I'm just here for moral support. I've been affected by OCD [*For those of you who don't know what OCD is, see the authors notes at the bottom], too. I probably know as much about it as you do."   
"How would you know about OCD?"   
"May I come in?" Jamie asked.   
Hank nodded, and Jamie walked in. "Both my parents were Obessive-Compulsive. Met at group or something." Jamie smiled sadly. "I think that's why I'm so screwed up."   
"What do you mean?" Hank asked.   
"My mom's was more in the way of protectiveness. If I came home later than I told her, even by a couple of minutes, when I got home she would cling to me. I mean really cling. I'd find her in the bathroom throwing up with grief or she would do this weird ritual that included her touching my door or something like that," Jamie said.   
"You're speaking in past tense," Hank stated.   
Jamie sighed. "She died a couple of years ago. Not by OCD or anything. Breast Cancer."   
"I'm sorry."   
"Hey, this is supposed to help you, not me," Jamie replied.   
"Right. Sorry. So what about your dad?" Hank asked.   
Jamie shrugged. "Like you, more or less. The whole cleanliness thing. Only it's not so much big things, it's little things. Dirt. Germs, you know? He's always been obsessed about that. I can't wear my shoes in the house, I can't come in after I've been dirty, it makes him feel like dirt is invading our home. He doesn't touch other people, not even me or my brother. He's never kissed us goodnight or hugged us or held our hands, even when we were really little. He's never even spanked us. I sometimes think I must be adopted, because there's no possible way I could have been conceived. But after my mom died, it got a lot worse. I guess he thought it was because he didn't do his rituals right that she died. He wears rubber gloves that he never takes off, except to change them. And when he changes them he washes his hands so much they bleed. And he's got this thing about light switches. The light switch HAS to stay down at all times. Even at night, and a down light switch means no light, he'll turn on a lamp or light a candle. And he likes the number three. If I come home and the time doesn't end in three, he'll make me stand outside until it does. I know it's really odd, but I've lived with OCD in my household for my entire life. I was 12 before I figured normal people didn't have to put plastic down on the seat before they go to the bathroom."   
Hank stared at Jamie. He had known Jamie for awhile, and never had he imagined that he and Jamie were both touched by the disease.   
Jamie shrugged. "Now I've gone out and bared my soul, it's your turn."   
Hank sighed. "I haven't lived here all my life, you know? I lived in a town called Alexakis up until I was 13. It started when I was 8. I felt like I had to clean, or else the piles of things would suffocate me. Then came the time when I felt like everything had to be even. If I got tagged on the playground, I couldn't move until someone came up to tag me, in the exact same space, but on the other side. Needless to say, I often lost a tag."   
Jamie smiled. "I'll bet."   
"When I was 9, my dad had an affair. We all knew, but it was a very hush hush thing. My brothers, sisters, and I weren't supposed to talk about it. My parents took me to therapists, but they all thought I just wanted attention, or that problems at home were causing stress. I've been on just about every anti-depressant you can think of. They also tried Ridalin, and other drugs like that. When I was 11, my dad got his girlfriend pregnant. It was a miscarriage, but my mom still kicked my dad out of the house. They divorced, and he and his girlfriend moved to Kingsport. They married, and began a life here. Then some of my other obsessions came about. I couldn't touch anything colored grey. I had to count the amount of things on my plate-including individual pieces of corn and things like that. If they weren't an even number, I wouldn't eat. Things like that.   
"My mom tried more therapists. When I was 13, I was sent to Florida, to go to a mental institution there. It was the scariest place I have ever been. I was there for a week, until one of the nurses finally figured out that I wasn't crazy, I had OCD. So I was flown back home. There were a number of OCD specialists around the country, but none in Alexakis- it was a very small town.   
"But there was one in Kingsport. It was the only place my mom could send me. All of our relatives lived in Alexakis, and she didn't want to move. So here I came, to Kingsport. I didn't want to live with my dad, but I wanted to get better. Getting better won out. When I first moved here, I still wasn't over OCD. I tried to keep a low profile.   
"As time went on, and I could stand to sit in a dirty room, I began to make friends Tyler, Val, everyone else. I didn't have too many friends before I came here; in Alexakis, I was known as the crazy kid, the one who was committed. That's why I haven't moved back, even though I loathe my father more than Tyler loathes William. That's why I haven't left even though my father works long hours, and when he isn't at work he's bar hopping and drinking, and flirting with other women, and my stepmother is busy getting drunk on wine bought for her by every single man in Kingsport. That's why I haven't left, even though my mom and 5 siblings I love like crazy still live in Alexakis. I am known here as the popular football player, as the EMT. There, I am nothing but a psycho."   
Jamie moved uncomfortably. He hadn't expected Hank to tell so much. "I'm sorry."   
Hank sighed. "It was fine, until now. I try to stay away from home as much as possible, that's the real reason why I joined the EMT squad. And when I go back to Alexakis for holidays and visits and such, I have great fun. My brothers Mark and Michael egg the crazy thing on, you wouldn't believe the popularity they get for having a nutso brother. I help, when I visit I act like I'm a skitzo, or I think I'm a dog. It's great, they all think I'm dangerously insane psycho-killer. "   
Jamie grinned. "Now there's a side of you I've never seen."   
Hank laughed, but then got serious again. "Yeah. It was fine, until my OCD re-surfaced again. Now I have no excuse to be away from the house, and the squad thinks I'm insane. It's like Alexakis again. But where do I run now?"   
Jamie stood up, and ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know. I can't believe I'm saying this, but if it's any help, I'm just a phone call away. I know more about what you're going though than anyone else in Kingsport."   
Hank smiled sadly. "Thanks, man." He put his hand on Jamie's shoulder. Jamie stiffened under the touch.   
Jamie shrugged. "I'm not used to people touching me, I guess."   
Then Jamie opened the door, and walked out.   


**Authors Notes: **I suppose in part one I didn't make it clear enough that Hank has Obessive-Compulsive Disorder (or OCD). Well, anyway, it's a disease of the mind, where a person learns to do one thing (or several, depending) too well, and they feel they HAVE to do it, or else something bad will happen. I included some of the more common fixations in here, such as cleanliness and and obsession with numbers and/or even-ness. I've also heard about cases where people feel they HAVE to confess every tiny sin, where they have to memorize every license plate number they see, and where they can't use silverware, because they think they hurt the forks by biting down. I do know you can beat it for awhile, but then stress can cause it to come back. I don't know anything about medications you can take, or if you can beat it for good. I'm also not sure if it's genetic or not (if it is, then it's a wonder Jamie or his brother doesn't have it, huh?). If you want more information on it, you can check out **Kissing Doorknobs**, which is about a girl with OCD. Also, the Godspoken, who appeared in one of the later books of Orson Scott Card's **Ender's Game **series all had it, and Jalil of K.A. Applegate's **Everworld **had it. That's where all of my information came from, so if anyone here has OCD (which, by the way, I hope not, because it would be an awful thing to have), sorry if my info isn't complete!   
And by the way, folks, this isn't the last you've seen of Hank's OCD! Check out the summary of the next installment of Spotless, We're all a Little Looney: 

_ When Hank cannot face his old friends, he joins a new crowd, one he used to scorn. He becomes so comfortable with them, and he abandons everything he once was..._   
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	3. Part 3: We're all a Little Looney

_A BIG BIG thanks to Darkchilde! I was re-reading 'Candy', when I read the line that basically sums up Spotless 4, and felt the urge to write it. But then, oh darn, I realized I had to finish S3 first...so..here it is! DC, 'Candy' helped me finish this thing! ;)_

Chapter 1   
Hank's alarm went off. He groaned, and looked at it. It was 5 AM. Time for football practice. Hank started to get up, when he realized something. He couldn't go to practice. It was too dirty, he would have to clean it, and he would look crazy in front of the team. He couldn't do that. 

So, for the first time in his life, Hank rolled over and turned off his alarm. 

*** 

Hank found a car space way off campus, a long walk away from the school. He was suprised at how far off he had to park; usually he was at school at 6, and didn't have that problem. 

By the time he had crossed the parking lot, the bell had rung, and everyone was heading to class. Hank followed suit, and went into his first class. 

Hank didn't have a class with Val or Tyler until after lunch, and Hank was almost...ashamed...to see them. so he avoided his locker all morning. 

But almost too soon came the time he was dreading. Lunch. 

Hank got his food and sat down. He didn't look at Tyler. 

"Where were you at practice?" Tyler asked. 

"Slept in," Mumbled Hank. He wasn't really paying attention, he was too busy arranging his food so nothing touched anything else. 

Hank counted. One chunk of mashed potatoes, two pieces of beef, 7 small pieces of fruit, and one roll. 

It wasn't even! Hank gripped the sides of the table, and tried to deal. If he could just take eat a piece of fruit, then everything would be better again. Hank lifted the fruit to his mouth, hand shaking like a dry leaf in the winter wind. 

"What are you doing?" Tyler asked, looking at Hank like he was crazy. 

Hank lost his concentration, and let the fruit call back to his plate. 

There was no answer from Hank, he was too busy trying to resist the urge to throw the plate away. He felt like his head had been pushed underwater! He couldn't breathe! Air! Air! Hank inhaled and exhaled shaky breaths, but it was difficult. He tried to concentrate on something else, anything else, but his mind couldn't latch on to any rational thought, besides that throwing his tray away would be the key to everything. 

"NO! I WON'T!" Hank yelled. The entire cafeteria fell silent as they looked at him, but he was too busy going through what he thought dying must feel like. 

"Won't what?" Tyler asked in an almost mocking tone. 

The edges of Hank's vision started to go fuzzy, and it was the last straw. He gave in, and got up to throw his tray away. Hank felt a wave of relief wash over him as the fuzziness went away, and he could breathe normally again. 

"Man, what is up with you?" Tyler asked. 

Hank blanked. What could he say? "No...nothing," He stammered. 

"What do you mean, nothing? Lately, you've been acting real crazy, Hank." 

Hank felt the words as if Tyler had punched him, and suddenly, the days Alexakis came back to him, the days when he would leave the school building and kids would hit him with sticks, or throw rocks, all while yelling, 'Crazy Hank! Crazy Hank!" 

Years of bottled rage suddenly surfaced in him like a raging bull urging to get out. He couldn't contain it any longer as his fist snaked out and punched Tyler so had and unexpectedly that Tyler staggered back, before catching his balance. Tyler hit back, and that was when all Hell broke loose. 

Both of them were punching and hitting like there was no tomorrow. At one point, Val tried to break them up, but Hank was too angry to let someone stop him from hitting this idiot, this meat head, that Hank had trusted, but then turned on him, this guy Hank loathed so. Hank also remembered feeling like he was about to fall over, and yelling, "Hit me on the other side! Hit me on the other side!" 

What seemed like hours later, they were pried apart by the on campus police. 

When they were given their punishment, 3 days of suspension, they neither looked at each other, nor made and gestures they knew the other was there. 

Hank's days of suspension passed quickly; neither his dad nor step mom even noticed he was home, after all, they never noticed him anyway. 

Chapter 2   
Three days later, Hank parked his car and crossed the parking lot. He noticed Jamie hanging out with his group under the bleachers. Jamie was the only friend Hank had outside of the popular circle, and his group was better than none. 

Hank approached them. They all gave him wary eyes as he approached, after all, no football player approached the outcasts just to be nice. 

"Hi," He said. 

"Hey," Jamie replied. 

"Well, well, well," said one of the outcasts Hank recognized as Kenny, the one who had the broken leg. "What's the star football player doing here, with us under the bleachers?" 

Caitie looked at Hank as if he were under inspection. "So, after your little episode three days ago you've decided that you're too afraid to face Tyler, so you wanna hang out with us?" 

Hank sighed. He hated how Caitie could read him like that. "Possibly." 

A pink haired girl spoke up. "A football idiot on the run from another football idiot! Perfect! This is awesome!" 

"Easily amused, huh Kiko?" Jamie asked. 

"Shut up, Sophomore!" Kiko replied. 

"You're a Sophomore too, Kiko," said another one of the outcasts. 

"Oh, yeah," Kiko giggled. 

Kenny walked up, and inspected Hank. "I don't know. You've been one of _them._" 

"He's been in a mental institution," Spoke up Jamie. 

One of the guys spoke up. "You're insane?" 

Hank shrugged. "That's what the people in my old town think." 

Each of the outcasts broke out into a grin. "You used to be one of us?" Someone asked. "One everyone thought was weird, or crazy? Someone no one wanted to hang around, for fear it's damage their reputation?" 

"Yup." 

Caitie laughed. Hank hadn't heard her do that before. "Now you've made 9 new best friends. Plus the fact that you totally creamed Tyler has made us like you a little more." 

"Welcome to the outcasts. And just remember, we protect our own, until they fail to protect us," said an Asian girl with black hair with blue streaks. 

"You know me and Caitie," said Jamie. "That's Kenny, Kiko, Jennie, Zil, Tey, Heidi, and C.C." 

Hank looked at C.C. He recognized her. She was the one who was always talking to herself in class and twitching. "You're..." He began. 

She finished. "C.C. Crazy Chick, I know what they call me." She said. "It's not what C.C. stands for, it's my initials, Carrie Candi, my parents thought it was cute to name me that or something. I'm not really crazy. But I encourage the rumors. It keeps the people I don't want away, and draws the ones I like to me." 

Hank nodded. He knew what that felt like. 

*** 

The beginning of Hank's day went fine. Classes as normal. 

It was at lunch that Hank noticed that not all of the outcasts seemed to be one tight group. It was more several little ones, bonded by the fact that they were shunned. Caitie and Jamie were at one end laughing (and probably flirting, too) like there was no tomorrow. Tey, Zil, Heidi, and Jennie all appeared to be one group as well. Kiko was busy coloring all over her napkin with markers in all kinds of crazy colors, and Kenny was watching the rest of the table, almost like he was the lord of the table and it was his task to make sure nothing happened. 

However, C.C. was sitting by herself, eating her lunch, and quietly writing in a notebook. The seat across from her was empty, and Hank slid into it. "Hey," He said. 

She looked up and smiled. "Hey. What's up?" 

He slid his food around his plate. "Nothing. What are you writing?" 

She looked down at her journal. "Eh, it's not much. Just some poetry." 

"Can I look?" 

"Sure." 

He slid her journal across the table to see. He was on the third line of her poem when she got up. Hank looked to where she was walking. She was trying to intercept Tyler, who was nearing the table with malice written across his face. C.C. just walked right up to him. "Let me put it simply so you can understand it, Football Player," She spat 'football player' like she was a priest saying the name of the Devil. "Hank is one of us now, and you can't do anything about it, because we protect our own. Got it?" 

"Your friend," Tyler began, getting closer to her and drawing himself up to he towered over her, "has caused me to to be grounded for two months." 

C.C. shrugged as if she didn't even notice Tyler was over a foot taller than her, and much stronger. "That's your problem." Then she spun around and returned to the table. Tyler glared at Hank, but did not come any closer, even though Hank was glaring back. C.C. gave a whoop, a sort of glissando with a series of yips attached to the end. Kiko joined in, and was backed by Tey, Zil, Jennie, and Heidi. Soon the entire table, even Hank, was yipping and yapping in a high pitched tone. When Tyler finally gave up and left, the table erupted in laughter, laughter of glee and the thrill of winning the battle of wills, but still wild, so the table wouldn't lose it's crazy appearance.   
***   
Later that day, Jamie was cleaning the ambulance when Val walked out. She sat down on the ground, saying nothing. She just sat there until it started to creep Jamie out. He turned his head to look at her. "Yes?" He asked. 

"Jamie, what is the matter with Hank?" 

"It's none of your business." 

Val put her hands on her hips. "This squad used to be a team, Jamie. Do you know what that means? We were 4 people who could rely on each other. We were whole, complete. We did our job well, because we were friends. And now, with Hank gone, everything is falling apart. We've lost our leader. And now Tyler is different. Where he used to have light there is none. He feels betrayed over his best friend, and he's turning to anger. He's turning away from everyone, especially you, because you harbored Hank. You're turning away from him, as well, and it's making you turn away from me. We once were a team, and now we're 3 angry, confused teenagers. And I want to know why it happened." 

Jamie didn't look at her. "If Hank wanted you to know, he'll tell you himself." 

"You're an asshole, Jamie." 

Chapter 3   
It was night. The entire outcast crowd was hanging out at their spot, under one of the huge freeway overpasses that was right near a strip mall. All of the flouesent lighting made the place away in blue light. 

They weren't all clumped together. Some were hanging out where the freeway met the street. Kenny was standing on the corner, smoking, and Jamie and Caitie were off somewhere, no doubt flirting (not that they would ever admit to it) Hank suspected. He spotted C.C., just sitting down on the brick, her hands around her knees. He walked to her, and sat down beside her. 

"Hey." 

"Hey." 

"Why are you alone?" Hank asked. 

C.C. smiled, almost sadly. "I suppose I'm the outcast of the outcasts." 

"I thought that was Kiko."   
  
C.C grinned. "She is a little strange, isn't she? But then again, so am I. So are you." She quickly followed up with, "No offense." 

Hank looked at C.C., eyes twinkling with amusement. "None taken." 

C.C. turned her head so that she was looking right into Hank's eyes. "But really, Kiko's the closest thing I have to a best friend." 

Hank took C.C.'s hand in his. "I'm sure I can do something about that."   


_Authors Notes: Out of all of the Spotless, this is the hardest to write, because I just couldn't figure out how to do the beginning. Thanks to anyone that listened to my useless blabbling about the beginning...you know who you are!_   
_Ah yes, and I'm sure you noticed the 'Demons in my Head' in the title...I've decided to make Spotless one story out of up to 5 (I'm not exactly sure on the number yet, but there will be at least two after Spotless). Spotless will be for sure followed by 'Alone and Drowning', which focuses on Val and 'Slide Into Another Night', which is about Caitie. The two ones that I'm not sure about are 'Release Me From This Living Hell', which is Jamie's story (Which, if it isn't part of Demons, will for sure be released as a stand alone), and 'Swim Beneath', which is about Tyler (which is tentative because I haven't thought up a plot line for it yet! ;)_   
_And BTW, I'd like to make sure ya'll know that when this was started, I still hadn't seen Friends Don't Let Friends, which is why this fic doesn't match up exactly with that._

_Here's the preview of Spotless part 4: Forbidden Fruit..._

_When Hank's sister Saudia pays Hank a visit, everything seems great...until one of the squad falls for her. Who will Hank turn to when harmless flirting turns to heated fighting, and he is blamed for everything?_


	4. Part 4: Returning to the Dragon's Lair

Return to the Dragon's Lair _I have to apologize, and say that the summary I gave at the end of 'We're All a Little Looney' was incorrect. Though I had planned to write 'Forbidden Fruit' as part 4, I have decided to take it out and replace it with this one, _Return to the Dragon's Lair_. Don't worry though, the sequel to Spotless, _Ties That Bond Also Choke_, is very very similar in nature to Forbidden Fruit (which is why I took it out of Spotless, it's basically the same story, with a different setting), so don't ya'll worry :)   
Also, I'm leaving on Saturday morning for a mountain climbing trip...a huge part of the trip is plane rides, car rides, etc., and I promise to take my notebook with me, and in my spare time, I will complete _Ties that Bond_ .  
Oh, yes, Mom, Dad, remember, my birthday is Thursday, and the IaHB guys are all on the top of my list!!  
Also, thanks to my totally awesome BETA readers, Sweet Lil Goth Gurlie, Arcadia, and BE-A-TLE :)  
Hey, and Kathryn, there's a shout out to you in chapter 5...can you find it? :D _  
  
  
Prologue  
"MVA," Val said as they climbed into the ambulance. "18 Wheeler flipped over, and some other vehicles, a cement truck and at least 5 passenger cars, slammed into it."  
A thunderstorm was raging outside, making the roads slick, and hard to see. Jamie kept a good grip on his seat as Tyler drove as fast as he could without risking the EMTs. Even still, the accident was a ways off, and it took them awhile to get there, giving each one a longer time to conjure up images of the dead.  
They arrived on the scene, and the trio took off to the nearest car that no was was attending to. The scene inside was a bloody mess. Trained as they were, the EMTs had trouble looking at the morbid scene inside. Both of the passengers, whom Tyler vaguely recognized (which was to be expected, as Kingsport was a small town), were surely gone, but he felt for a pulse anyway.   
None.  
Tyler tried again, as he was overwhelmed with an urge to save the driver, an African American man who looked to be a bit younger than William. Tyler applied pressure to the man's chest, again and again, to try and start his still heart again.  
Tyler looked down to see Val's hand over his. "He's dead," she whispered. "We're EMTs, not miracle workers. C'mon Tyler, there are live people we have to save."  
After they had taken people in, Tyler wanted to stay at the hospital to offer condolences to the family of the couple, but there was a strict policy against it.  
_ They probably had children_, Tyler thought as he tossed and turned in his bead that night. _They're orphans now._  
  
Chapter 1  
C.C. pulled her car in front of Hank's house. He hadn't been at school today, and she was checking up on him, just like he did when she was gone. Plus, she wanted to ask him something. Her petty cousin was throwing a banquet for her birthday, and though she was required to attend, she was allowed to bring a friend.  
Of course, when she heard that, she thought of no one but Hank. In a period of weeks he had gone from the good looking football player she had no hopes of ever even making eye contact with, to the best friend she had ever had. Plus, if Hank was asked nicely, he would act as her boyfriend for the night, shocking her family as he flirted the night away with her, giving her quick kisses, the two of them laughing like lovers.  
Of course, the worst thing about that was that when the night was over he would revert back to her platonic best friend.  
That was the best, worst, and most confusing thing about hanging out with Hank: their relationship. C.C. sometimes didn't know what they were. Best friends, an item, or a weird combination of both. Was he attracted to her? He was so eager to play boyfriend, but did he ever want to take it for real?   
God, she was so attracted to him, not that she would ever tell him that. He was good looking, funny, and best of all, he was easy to talk to, almost easier than any female friend C.C. had ever had. She longed for a real date with him, or a real kiss, not a fake one used to give her family heart attacks. Sometimes he seemed to close to asking her out, yet he had never crossed the friendship line. C.C. got out of her car and knocked on the cream colored door that opened into the one story domain he shared with his dad and step mom (even though she had never met them, for they were always working). Hank opened the door, and he looked so horrible she almost gasped.  
His eyes were swollen and bloodshot, his cheeks puffy and tearstained. His shirt was the one he had been wearing the day before, only more wrinkled.  
He fell into her arm, and C.C. felt a salty wetness drip onto her shirt.  
"My father..." was all he said.  
***  
Tyler looked right and left to see if anyone was coming. He needed to look at the files from the night before, even though he knew that the rules instructed him not to get involved.  
He had to see the name of the couple they had treated the night before. Their faces had been haunting him all night, and he knew that if he could find out who they were, they would leave him alone.  
Tyler pulled out the file and opened it, setting it on the table. He took a drink of his Pepsi as he scanned down the mortality list.  
His Pepsi fell to the floor with a dull thud, and a dark stain enveloped the ground around it. However, Tyler's eyes stayed glued to the names of the people who had died in that car.  
Harold and Andrea Beecham.  
Tyler couldn't believe it. He had thought the couple had looked familiar, as both had always been working, and neither one really gave a damn about Hank, Tyler had only seen Hank's guardians once or twice.  
Still, Tyler knew that the death of his father must be taking it's toll on Hank. Even though they hated each other, Tyler knew what he had to do.  
***  
With a familiar ease, Tyler slid open the unlocked door to Hank's house. He had done it so many times, in the past that the act of doing it made him forget for a second that he and Hank were now sworn enemies, that he was breaking an unspoken taboo by being here.  
Tyler looked in Hank's living room, and was unprepared for the scene being played in it. Hank was lying face down on the couch, unclothed from the waist up, with the girl he hung out with now- the crazy chick- perched on his body, massaging the muscles on Hank's shoulders and kneading the muscles of his back. She saw Tyler, and put a finger to her lips.  
"Shhh," she whispered. "He just fell asleep, and since he told me he didn't get much sleep last night, I don't want to wake him."  
Tyler opened his mouth to speak, but she only made a quiet motion again, and climbed off the couch. She took Tyler by the elbow, and dragged Tyler into Hank's dismal kitchen.   
"Why did you come here?" She hissed.   
"I found out about his dad and step mom, and it made me realize how much of an ass I've been. I came to apologize."  
She looked at him, wary. "So you know about his disorder?"  
"What?" Tyler questioned. "I just came to apologize for over reacting about the fight. Is he sick?"  
She sighed. "When he was younger, he had a mental disorder that caused him to be alienated. It resurfaced a couple of months ago, with similar results. I don't know if he wants you to know this, so..."  
"Don't go telling him?"  
"Yeah." She grabbed a pen and an empty grocery list. She scribbled something on it, folded it up, and handed it to Tyler. "Research this, and then talk to Hank."  
Tyler put the paper in his pocket, and didn't open it until he was in his car.  
"Obessive-Compulsive Disorder."  
  
Chapter 2  
"Whaddya reading?" Jamie asked. Tyler raised the book,  Kissing Doorknobs, so Jamie could read the title. After leaving Hank's that afternoon, he went to Barnes and Noble. He had one of the sales ladies look up books on Obessive-Complusive Disorder for him, and he left the store with that book, another fiction, The Boy Who Couldn't Stop Washing_ ,_ and two non-fiction. He had decided to start on Kissing Doorknobs , as he figured a fiction would be easier to get into.   
Jamie whistled. "Kissing Doorknobs? Why are you reading that?"  
Tyler smiled a half smile. "C.C. recommended I read it before talking to Hank."  
"You tried to talk to Hank?"  
"I went to apologize. Treating his father, it just really made me realize that I've been a real ass."  
Jamie sighed. "Look, if you want to know anything about OCD, I can tell you just about everything you want to know. I don't have it myself, but my brother and parents do. Anything you want to know, just ask."  
***  
Tyler almost just opened the door, but at the last minute changed his mind and knocked. Hank opened the door a crack, and almost slammed it, but Tyler squeezed in before he could accomplish that task. "I came to talk," Tyler explained. "To apologize. Look, I know I've been a complete and total asshole, and I'm sorry."  
"You're apologizing?" Hank asked warily.  
"Yeah, man. I missed having you as a friend. You were my partner in crime. How could I not?"  
Hank grinned, and embraced his fairer friend. "I've missed you too," He said when they parted.   
"I'm sorry about your dad," Tyler said. "I was one of the ones who treated him, and we tried, we really tried. But you know as well as I do that sometimes out hardest isn't enough."  
Hank nodded. "You know as well as I do that when my dad was alive he and I didn't get along. But now that he's gone, it hurts, Tyler, it hurts like I never thought it would. We never got a chance to really talk, he never knew that deep down I loved him for taking me in when I was so shunned elsewhere. And especially now that him and Andrea died, well, I'm just sorry we had to become friends again _now_."  
"Why now?" Tyler asked.  
Hank led Tyler into his room, and pulled a framed picture out of a drawer. He tossed it at Tyler, who, of course, caught it. Tyler looked at the picture, and recognized Hank (a few years younger), but did not recognize the other 6 people in the picture.  
"It's my family," Hank explained. "My mom, my sister, and my 4 brothers. They live in Arizona. And, since my dad died, so will I."  
"What??"  
Hank shook his head sadly. "I'm old enough to live on my own, but I have no way to support myself. I've been over it only a hundred time, and as much as I hate it, the only solution is to move back home."   
"Why didn't you ever tell me you had family in Arizona?" Tyler asked.  
"Shame, I guess. I moved here to get therapy, and I didn't really want to dredge up old memories. Besides, I wanted to lead a normal life. I had been somewhat of an outcast in Arizona, and I wanted to start fresh." Hank shrugged. "And I really missed my family. That's the only good thing about going home. I'll see them again, but it also means that I'll be leaving C.C., and you, and Jamie and Caitie, and Val and everybody else."  
Tyler looked at his best friend sadly. They had just made amends, and now he had to go? Why was life so cruel?  
  
Chapter 3  
Hank stood at the airport terminal. The day had finally come. It was time for him to say farewell to Kingsport, and all of his friends there.   
C.C., Tyler, Jamie, Caitie and Val had all come to see him off. Val and Caitie were the first two to say good bye. Val, terribly emotional, was crying her eyes out, but Caitie, always the creative one, handed him a small bound book.   
"It's pictures from Kingsport," She said. "And I added in some poetry. Don't forget any of us here, you got that?"  
"I promise," Hank replied.  
Jamie was next. He handed Hank a slip of paper with a telephone number on it. "It's the number of my brother, Peter. He lives in New Mexico, and he's a part of a therapy group of people who have/had affected by OCD. I told him you were moving there, and he said that the group will welcome you with open arms if you want to join them."  
"Thanks, man," Hank said. "I don't know how I would have survived without you."  
Jamie smiled. "You would have found a way. You always do."  
The hardest person to say farewell to was Tyler. "The thought that you won't be there to watch my back is hard to believe," Tyler said. "But trust me, every touchdown the Cobras make next season will be for you."  
Hank gave his best friend a sad smile. "Just make sure you win the championships this year, got that?"  
"No problem. Take care of yourself."  
"You too."  
And last was C.C. She was crying almost as hard as Val, something Hank would never think he would see. "I just can't believe that we just found each other," She said. "I never told you this, Hank, but I love you." Hank found himself suddenly uncomfortable.  
"All boarding flight 452 for Phoenix, Arizona!" Yelled an attendant.  
"I got to go," Hank said quickly, and ran into the plane without another word to his friends.  
***  
Shannen Dahera, editor of the Alexakis High newspaper's editorial page, looked at her watch impatiently. She was missing her lunch, newspaper class, and off block so she could drive 30 minutes into Phoenix to pick up her best friend Saudia's twin brother, the infamous 'Crazy Hank' Beecham, from the airport. She hadn't wanted to do it at first, as she didn't want anything to do with someone who, as the rumors said, had killed 4 people, and routinely killed and fried cats for lunch. However, Saudia has persisted (as she didn't have an off-block to pick Hank up in, and her mother had to work), laying on the guilt for all of the times that she had come through for Shannen. Besides, Saudia persuaded, Shannen would be able to interview Hank, and get lots of good information for a possible editorial.  
That was what had won Shannen. Saudia had told her that Saudia's brother would be going to Alexakis High. At that, Shannen's eyes lit up. Her mind was already kicking into high gear for an editorial on safety in the school system: allowing an insane criminal to attend public school certainly wasn't safe.  
The passengers began to unload, and Shannen kept an eye out for Crazy Hank. She was expecting to see someone wheeled out in wheelchair and a strait jacket, his face covered in a 'Hannibal-esque' mask. However, by the time most of the passengers had cleared out of the area, no convict had been wheeled out. She checked the flight number. Yep, this was the right one. She scanned the thin crowd remaining, and looked at the only teenage Black guy left in the terminal. He was holding up a sign reading "Are You My Reporter?" and dressed in a shirt that proudly proclaimed "Who Ya Gonna Call? Kingsport EMTs!"  
Shannen approached him. "Sorry to bother you," she said. "But I'm looking for a Hank Beecham?"   
He grinned. "That would be me."  
She drew in a breath. Damn, he was hot. And, suprisingly, he looked totally normal. No mask, no straight jacket. But, as the cliché went, looks could be deceiving.  
"Are you Saudia's friend?" He asked. "Shannen?"  
"Yes," she replied. "Want to walk to my car?"  
He shrugged. "Sure. I'm at your mercy until you take me home." Then he paused. "Saudia said you might me asking me some questions or something?"  
"Yeah, I'm writing an editorial, and I need to interview you."  
"No problem."  
They walked to the baggage claim and retrieved some of his stuff (the rest was being shipped). They loaded it into the back of Shannen's car and drive off.   
They drove that way for about 20 minutes. When they were ten minutes outside of Alexakis, Shannen pulled into a Taco Bell. When they sat down at a cheerfully colored salmon and guacamole colored booth, she pulled two tape recorders, a main one and another to serve as backup, out of her purse and set them down at the table. "Ready?" She asked, and Hank nodded. She simultaneously pressed both record buttons. "Interview with Hank Beecham," She said, and then turned to Hank.  
"So Hank," she asked. Where exactly were you living before you came back to Alexakis?"  
"I was living with my father and step-mother in Kingsport, Virginia. It was the only place where I could get therapy for my problem, and still have someone to live with."  
"What was this problem you were speaking of?" She questioned.  
"It's a disorder," He told her. "I'm the victim of a mental disease that somehow affects one out of every 4 Americans, a disease called Obessive-Compulsive Disorder. My having it doesn't mean I'm crazy, and it certainly doesn't mean I'm a bad psycho killer. It just means that my brain has certain fixations, things that I HAVE to do. In every person it's different, but my main thing is order. A place for everything, and everything in its' place. Also, odd things really bother me." He shrugged. "That's why I don't listen to FM radio. I had beaten it when I was in 6th grade, but I had a relapse a few months ago that I'm still dealing with."  
"Why did you move back to Alexakis?"  
He paused for a moment. "My father and step mother died in a car crash a few weeks ago. Living on my own is not an option at this point. I found out that if I moved back to Arizona, there is a group of people in their late teens and early 20's just across the New Mexican border who all have OCD that meet once every two weeks for group therapy. One of them is the older brother of one of my best friends. So, since I would have access to therapy, and my family was willing to take me back in, I made the decision to move home."  
"How are you feeling about coming back?"  
"I'm fucking terrified," He stated simply. "When I left Alexakis, one of my main concerns was that my illness would affect the popularity of my siblings. Saudia came up with the idea if they were the source of the 'Crazy Hank' rumors, that people would look up to them. So they did encourage it, and from what I heard they were respected for it. Also, my younger brothers were amused by my 'Crazy' behavior so much that whenever I came back to Alexakis I would do a 'Mad Dog' routine in public, just for fun, to keep the rumors active. Of course, the plan was great, as long as I wasn't planning on moving back. Well, now that I am, there are so many rumors that I am almost to the point of fearing for my life. Going to school scares me. If Alexakis was like Kingsport, and had two separate high schools I could go to the other one. But it doesn't, so I have to go to a place where people think I...what's the latest rumor? Eat dogs?"  
"Cats."  
"Yeah, well, it terrifies me. I am dreading the first day of school, because I will not fit in. Back at my old school, I was the star quarterback, and best friends with the star receiver and the head cheerleader. I was the senior EMT of an EMS squad, and I was ranked #2 in my class as far as grades went. I was probably one of the most popular guys in school. But here? I'm lower than gum on the bottom of your shoe, lower than pond scum, lower than dog crap."  
The interview continued on that way for a long time. Shannen found herself at points sympathizing with Hank, and she started to realize that he wasn't like what the rumors said at all. Slowly the editorial idea in her head began to evolve. No longer was it about convicts in school, it became about not judging people on appearances. With a start, Shannen realized that that was why Saudia had her pick up Hank in the first place.  
Finally, she came to the last few questions. "I know this may seem weird," She warned. "But it was on my original list of questions, and I'm going to ask you anyway so I can quote you on it. Have you ever killed anyone?"  
There was a long pause, and Shannen at first thought he didn't hear her. However, he finally looked up at her, and whispered (with that looked like perhaps a glitter of tears in his eyes, but she couldn't be sure), "Yes."  
"What?"  
"As I've stated before, I was formerly senior EMT of an EMS squad. And let me tell you, there is not a senior EMT alive who will tell you he's never killed anyone. Every night before I go to bed, people who died in my arms because I got there too late to save them haunt me. Some of them have been children, others adults, but either way, I remember everyone who has died on my watch, and I feel responsible."  
Shannen was intrigued. "Why do you do it, then?"  
"The same reason I can't read the paper anymore. I was discharged from the squad right after my OCD relapse, and since them, whenever I hear about someone whose died, I feel responsible, because if I had been on duty then, maybe they would have lived. It kills me, and as soon as I beat my OCD again, I will find an EMS squad here that will take me in."  
Shannen looked down at her list of questions. There it was, her last one question for him. "Do you have anything you want the population of Alexakis to know?"  
'Yes. Don't judge me on who you think I am, it's all a lie. If you just go a bit deeper, you will find I am not who you think I am."  
"That's it," She told him, turning off her tape recorders. "Painless, wasn't it?"  
He smiled. "Quite. And I see you've gotten rid of that cold shoulder you had towards me earlier, huh?"   
"Of course," she told him. "I don't think anyone who listens to you for five minutes will be able to think you're crazy."  
"I appreciate it, and I wish it was that easy." He looked at his watch. "Wow, it's almost 5. I hate to ask, but could you go ahead and drive me home? I would really like to see my family."  
  
Chapter 4  
Hank swung open the door to his mother's house. Immediately he was greeted by the noises of a busy, bustling house--something he never had in Kingsport. He could hear that someone in a room directly above the front door was playing Limp Bizkit loudly. Just then, the noise of a saxophone pierced through the house, and 4 voices chorused "Moooooom!"  
Hank stepped out of the landing area and into the living room. Lying sprawled across the floor, reading a novel was his sister, Saudia, and sitting at the coffee table was one of his brothers, Michael, carefully constructing a model of the sun.  
"Hey," He said, and both siblings looked up.   
"Hank!" They yelled in unison. As if that were the magic word, suddenly he heard "Hank!"s Being yelled from random points across the house, and 4 sets of feet coming into the living room. Before Hank knew what was happening he was suddenly the victim of a massive hug. Hank struggled to put his hands in the air.   
"I surrender!" He cried.  
The other 6 Beechams untangled themselves, and stood only feet away from Hank. The entire family had gather to see him. His mom was there, still in her suit from work, but with an apron over it and hair every which way. He also saw his only sister, and only older sibling, Saudia (who was only older than him by about an hour). Also gathered was 15 year old Rew (short for Andrew), the Limp Bizkit fan, dressed in baggy jeans and a loose black shirt reading 'Skateboarding is not a crime', 13 year old Alan who was every bit as interested in sports as his older brother, 12 year old Christopher, the saxophone player, and 9 year old Michael, his youngest brother, covered in glue and gold paint.  
"Hank, honey, welcome home," Greeted his mother.   
"I'm glad to see you all again," He told his family.  
"We're glad to see you," Chorused the gang.  
"I trust you had a nice ride home?" Asked Saudia with a bit of a grin. "Shannen was every bit convinced that you are a psycho, but I figured if I were to put you two in a car together, you'd warm up to each other pretty quickly."  
"I think it worked," Hank admitted. "She was pretty distant at the beginning, but at the end of her interview I began to get the feeling that she and I could become friends."  
Saudia smiled at her brother, and he smiled back at his family. He was worried about going to school, but he realized that even if he wasn't welcome there, here, in this house, he was really, truly, _home_.  
***  
There was a knock on Hank's bedroom that night. "Come in," He called.   
The door opened to admit Saudia. "Mind?" She asked,  
"No problem."  
She sprawled across the foot of his bed. "Something...or several somethings...are worrying you. I can tell. So c'mon, 'fess up little bro."  
"I'm only a little bit younger," Hank said absently.  
"Whatever. So, what's up?"  
Hank sighed. "Fine. There are a lot of things on my mind. First of all, I'm worried about school tomorrow. But most of all, I'm thinking about Kingsport." He looked at the clock. "The late shift started 10 minutes ago. Brooke would be after everyone for paperwork, Tyler and Val would be sitting on the couch, helping each other with homework and flirting with each other, and Jamie would be draped across a chair looking like he wasn't enjoying himself, even though he really couldn't stand the thought of not being an EMT." Saudia nodded. Through their many IMs, letters, and phone calls, she had heard stories of the other EMTs. "And I'm also thinking about C.C. Today, when I got on the airplane, she had told me she loved me."  
Saudia smiled at her brother. "Congratulations."  
Hank shook his head. "No, see I don't feel that way about her. I mean, she and I were best friends. There was no romance in it at all, at least for me. I wasn't attracted to her at all, and now I'm afraid that there might a strain in a friendship." He sighed. "It seems like I always keep stumbling into romance, but I'm never attracted to any of the girls I date." He sighed. "What's wrong with me?"  
Saudia patted her brother on the back. "Don't worry. I'm sure your true love is out there somewhere."  
Always the optimist, aren't you Saudia?" Hank asked.  
She threw a pillow at him and they both laughed. Their laughing roused Michael, who Hank was rooming with (As Christopher and Alan were already sharing one room, and quite frankly, Hank was worried that if he even looked in Rew's room, it would be so messy that Hank would be cleaning far into his 30s).  
"What are you doing?" Michael asked groggily.  
"Nothing," Saudia quickly replied. "Go back to sleep."  
"I'd better take your advice, too," Hank woefully told his older sister. "Big day tomorrow."  
Saudia grinned. "Oh yes, I forgot. It's little Hanky's first day of school tomorrow! Do you need me to tuck you in?"  
"I'm a big kid now, remember?" Hank asked.  
"all right then, nighty night."  
"Sleep well."  
  
Chapter 5  
"I need your transcripts," said the receptionist. Hank handed her the large stack of paper that was his information, including past report cards and former class schedules.  
She looked at his name on the top of a piece of paper and paled. Hank winced. He knew that the 'Crazy Hank' rumors were huge, but he didn't know if adults believed them. Apparently they did. Oh, well. Hank had decided that whenever he came up against a rumor, he would act nonchalant (as crazy would not be the way to go).  
She typed in a few things and then the printer began. "There are only about 20 students in Advanced Placement classes here, so they'll be the only ones in your core classes," she said, not making eye contact with Hank. She took a paper from the printer, and handed it to him. "That's your schedule, and here's a map, school handbook, school schedule..." she handed him a large stack of papers that he would sift through that night.  
"Thank you," He said. "Is that all?"  
"Yes. Classes are in 5th block right now, which means you go to your Pre-Calcalus class. That's right down the hall, in room 508."  
He left the office and began his adventure to his math room. "Right down the hall" apparently meant "right down the hall, take a left, go two hallways, take a right, then turn at the bathrooms, and it's the 4th door on your left."  
Finally he reached his destination. He pushed open the door, revealing a short squat man instructing a small class of students, half about to fall asleep, the other half sitting on the edge of their seats with excitement. "Hello?" He said.  
The man turned from his lesson. "Yes? Are you a new student?" Hank held out his schedule. "Ah, yes. Well, welcome to Pre-Calcalus. I'm Mr. Kingsley. Welcome Mr..." he trailed off as he glanced at the top of his schedule. "Mr. Beecham, Hank Beecham." He said, and the class all suddenly drew awake.  
"Bond has nothing on me," Hank said dryly.  
"Well, take your seat, Mr. Beecham. There's one right over there beside Mr. Chang. Mr. Chang, raise your hand."  
A boy in the 3rd row raised his hand, and Hank moved to sit next to him.  
"I didn't know he was smart," whispered someone behind him.  
"Wasn't Hannibal Lector a genius?" Another girl replied.  
"Yes," agreed the first girl, "But I think they probably just stuck him in AP because there's less of us, and if he goes crazy and eats us..."  
"No one would care because we're the geeks?" The second girl answered.  
"No, I was thinking more along the lines of that the regular level classes are fuller, so there'd be less people to eat."  
Hank turned around in his seat. "Look, I can hear everything you're saying. I'm not going to eat anyone, and I'd appreciate if you'd stop."  
"Mr. Beecham, Ms. Busby, Ms. Christopher," interrupted Mr. Kingsley. "I'm sure whatever you all have to say is very interesting, but save it for after class."  
He went back to lecturing, and Hank put his head in his hands. This was going to be a long day.   
***  
By the time 8th block rolled around, it was well known around the school that Hank was back. And when people discovered that, the harassing got bad. He couldn't walk down the hall without hearing whispers of "crazy" or having people throw things at him. Saudia and Shannen tried to intervene, but neither was popular enough to stop kids from tormenting him. By the time Hank met Saudia in the parking lot to go home, he was ready to pack his things and move back to Kingsport.  
Unfortunately that was not an option. Hank went home and did his homework. Finally, it was 6. As it was Tuesday, the night when his OCD group met, he said good bye to his family and borrowed Saudia's car. He drove across the Arizona/New Mexico border and arrived at the meeting with about 30 minutes to spare. Oh, well, he had wanted to get there early, and now he would know that he could leave a bit later.   
Hank pushed open the door to the small room where group was being held, and expected to find it empty. Instead, there were two college age students in room (which, Hank noted thankfully, was very clean), one setting up chairs, and another setting out sodas and various snack foods on a table.  
"Hi!" The guy setting up the chairs said. "Are you here for group?"  
"Yes," Hank told him. "I'm Hank Beecham."  
He broke out into a grin. "My brother told me about you," He said, sticking out a hand. "I'm Peter Waite."  
Hank opened his eyes wide. Hank wasn't quite sure what to expect in Jamie's brother, but certainly not this. Hank stood at 6 feet, and Jamie was about Hank's same height, but his brother was short. Hank had to guess that Peter was only about 5 foot two. Also, where Jamie wore all black rebellious clothes, Peter was dressed normally, in khakis and a T-shirt. Yes, Hank did note, they did have the same color hair and eyes, but Peter's hair was not spiked. And Peter just had sort of a different 'vibe' to him, more of a nice guy kinda vibe than his younger brother posessed.  
Just then Hank felt himself enveloped in a hug by Peter. It startled Hank, but the other person in the room noted the look on Hank's face. "Don't mind Peter," she said, half joking half serious. "He was one of the 'can't touch for fear of germs' people when he was a kid, and now that he can touch people, he does it as much as humanly possible."  
Peter let go, and the girl walked over to him. "I'm Jessica," she said. "Welcome to group. If you still have your OCD, we're gonna help you get rid of it, and if you don't then we're gonna keep it from coming back." She shrugged, and smiled. "And either way, we're gonna have some fun in the meantime."  
Over the next two hours, Hank met all of the people in the group. Most were in college, like Peter and Jessica, but there were a few, like him, in high school, although no one was any younger than 16. They were also mostly people who had already recovered from OCD, but a surprising number had not, so Hank was not alone.  
He decided he would like group, and in any case, it would keep him from going insane at school.  
  
Chapter 6  
"all right boys, everybody out," the track coach yelled into the locker room.  
Hank put down his school newspaper and exited the locker room. Shannen's article that tried to get people to stop believing the 'Crazy Hank' rumors to stop had come out, but Hank really didn't see it helping much. He was an outcast, he always was in this town, and he always would, he had decided. Though he had gained a few friends here and there, mostly a few of Saudia's more open minded artsy friends, he could still count the people at his school who weren't out to get him on one hand.  
When Hank reached the outside, he was instructed to run laps. As he did so, he watched the elementary school kids play. Alexakis was a small enough town that all of the kids, grades K-12, went to the same school. Mostly the areas were separated- high school classes in one wing, middle school in another, and elementary school in a third, but there were places where things overlapped, like how the playground was at the end of the field, wrapped around by the north end of the track.  
"Hi Hank!" Yelled one of his little brothers from the playground.  
"Hey Michael!" He yelled back.  
Just then, a scream broke through the playground. Hank looked and saw that one of the kids had fallen off the monkey bars, and his his head pretty badly. Hank's EMT training kicked in, and he ran to the playground.  
He ran to the boys' side. "Don't eat him!" He heard one little kid call, but Hank ignored him. A teacher ran to Hank and the little boy.   
"Call 911!" Hank instructed the teacher.  
Hank looked at the boy's head. It was bleeding fast, and he'd probably need a major amount of stitches to fix it. As it was, the boy looked like he was about to pass out. "Sit up, so that your head is above your heart. If you start to feel faint, tell me and I'll support you," Hank told him, as Hank was taking of his shirt. The boy obeyed, and Hank ripped his shirt into shreds, and began to tie them into makeshift bandages around the boys head. Other track guys had come and were standing around, watching Hank. One kneeled down by their side, the guy who Saudia had pointed out to be one of the most popular guys in the school.  
"That's my little brother," he whispered. "What can I do to help?"  
"Your little brother is soaking through my bandages," Hank told him. "I need you to take off your shirt, and rip it into strips. We need to try to stop the blood flow. If you can get some other guys to rip their shirts into bandages, then that would be good."  
He nodded, and began carrying out Hank's instructions. By the time EMS got there, they had the little boy stable. "What happened here?" Asked the one Hank could tell, by the uniform, was the senior EMT of the squad.  
"I saw him fall off the monkey bars," Hank told them. "I have EMT training, so I ran over and began to bandage his head. I think he'll probably need several stitches, but he's in pain right now, and if you have any pain killers, then I think you should get them to him."  
"Right," said the senior EMT. "Derek, take vitals, Ryan, call the hospital to get clearance."  
The senior EMT took a needle out of his equipment. The fourth squad member took the little boys hand. "I'm Danielle, and these are my friends Derek, Ryan, and Preston," she told him.   
"Ratcher Country general, this is squad 623, we have a 9 year old male, bleeding profusely from the head, do we have clearance to give him something for the pain?"  
"His name is Kirk," croaked the guy who had earlier admitted to being his brother. Danielle nodded at him, and then went back to Kirk.  
"BP's 120 over 90, heart beat's steady."  
"Well Kirk," Danielle soothed. "We're going to take really good care of you."  
"We've got clearance," said Ryan.  
"If this hurts, squeeze my hand, OK?" Danielle asked. Kirk nodded, and Preston unsheathed the pain killer. He put the needle into Kirk's arm, and almost instantly relief could be seen.  
The EMTs quickly loaded Kirk into the back of the ambulance. When he was gone, Kirk's brother clapped him on the back.  
"I've heard things about you, Beecham, but you know what? You're an OK guy."  
  
  
  
  
_Wow, that thing took me ages. Anyway, here's a sample for Demons in My Head 2: Ties that Bond Also Choke...  
Jamie never really had a good relationship with his older brother. But when Jamie gets the opportunity to work at a camp with Peter, he's looking forward to getting to know him better. But what happens when Jamie finds out that the Peter he thought he knew wasn't the real Peter at all?  
  
  
_  



End file.
